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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29407449">L'Manberg's Heart</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Egopocalypse/pseuds/Egopocalypse'>Egopocalypse</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst with a Happy Ending, Dream SMP Season 2 Finale, Gen, L'Manberg still exists, Manipulative Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Platonic Soulmates Toby Smith | Tubbo &amp; TommyInnit, Rated T for TommyInnit, Tubbo gave himself to Dream to save L'Manberg during Doomsday, Two Shot, Villain Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 10:42:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,448</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29407449</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Egopocalypse/pseuds/Egopocalypse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>L'Manberg Lives AU.</p><p>Tubbo disappeared without a trace the dawn of what was meant to be Doomsday. Tommy finally figures out where he is.</p><p>(Dream's final pieces fall into place.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>No Romantic Relationship(s), Toby Smith | Tubbo &amp; TommyInnit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>85</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>L'Manberg's Heart</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29223957">uneasy is the head that wears a crown</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/probablyaceok/pseuds/probablyaceok">probablyaceok</a>.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hey guys! This is my first published fic for the Dream SMP fandom, and I'm so excited for it. This story was meant to be a short one-shot, but the more I wrote, the more it got away from me. Now, it's over 3000 words and counting. Oops.</p><p>Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tommy never knows what Dream wants from him.</p><p> </p><p>He tried to understand it before, back when he was first exiled. It kept him busy during the long, painful stretches of time between Dream’s check-ins where no one -- not even Ghostbur -- visited him. He thought back to the discs, to L’Manberg’s independence, to the sudden way Dream turned against them in Pogtopia; still, it made no sense to him at all.</p><p> </p><p>Descending the elevator; however, finally allows him to see.</p><p> </p><p>The gold platforms -- shrines, really, from what it looks like -- stand stark against the blackstone walls, drawing his gaze away from the shimmering purple portal. He gapes at the giant portraits and item frames, his prized possessions so close and yet so far from his reach.</p><p> </p><p>His hands twitch. Maybe if he sprinted, he’d be fast enough-</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t even think about it, Tommy.” A sharp blade scrapes across the back of his neck, a shiver rippling under his skin. “They’re not what you’re here for.”</p><p> </p><p>Tommy shakes his hands, suddenly finding them clammy. “Wh- why are we down here, anyways?” he says, hating the way his voice wavers. He turns to Dream and fights the urge to fidget under the mask’s impassive stare. “Do we have to go through the portal or something?”</p><p> </p><p>“You wanted answers, didn’t you?” Dream pulls the axe back, enchanted netherite gleaming against a black backdrop as he twirls it in a precise circle. “Here’s where you’ll get them.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, okay, but what answers?” Tommy asks. “What the fuck is this place?”</p><p> </p><p>“You’ll see” is his answer as the platform comes to a stop. “Follow me.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Tommy holds back as Dream steps off the platform, axe now resting on his shoulder. He flexes his hands, wishing he had some weapon, item, anything he could hold or pick at.</p><p> </p><p>But Dream told him he had to leave everything behind. Dream told him to put all of his items in a chest. Dream told him to put all his armor in a hole-</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Tommy. </em>”</p><p> </p><p>His head snaps up, eyes wide and panicked. Dream stands displeased over by an open hall, tapping his foot against the ringing stone. “If you don’t want answers, I can just take you back to L’Manberg.”</p><p> </p><p>He shakes his head vigorously. Remember who you’re here for, he thinks. The struggling country, heart threatening to stop as its lifeblood drains. The people, weary and anxious, treating each moment as if it’s their last. </p><p> </p><p>The President, who disappeared without a trace the day it was meant to fall.</p><p> </p><p>(He sacrificed himself, Tommy argues with his own head. He didn’t leave. Not when everything he cared about was in L’Manberg. He wouldn’t.)</p><p> </p><p>“Tommy,” Dream scolds. “Don't keep me waiting.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry, sorry,” he says, stumbling over. “I’m coming.”</p><p> </p><p>He trips on his way to Dream, almost falling on his face before the other man grabs him by the back of his collar and pulls him up again. He tugs his shirt away from his neck the moment Dream lets go of him, coughing to rid himself of the uncomfortable feeling lingering on his neck.</p><p> </p><p>“Come on,” Dream snaps. “There’s something I want you to see.”</p><p> </p><p>Tommy nods and follows without another word, massaging his raw throat. Upon turning the corner into the next hall, he freezes.</p><p> </p><p>“What the fuck?” he can’t stop himself from saying. “What the fuck is this?”</p><p> </p><p>Empty item frames and posts stretch out towards the end of the hall, signs posted above denoting the missing possessions: <em> Axe of Peace, Enderchest, Fran, Squeeks, Shulker, Mars, Beckerson. </em> At the back, a small stable is set up, holding Friend and-</p><p> </p><p>“Henry?” Tommy whispers. </p><p> </p><p>His legs are leaden, bolted to the ground. He saw Henry die months ago, didn’t he? He’s sure of it. How the hell did he end up here?</p><p> </p><p>“I saved him and brought him here while everyone was fighting,” Dream says. “It took a while, but it was worth it in the end.”</p><p> </p><p>“I-” Tommy tries to swallow down the lump in his throat. He fails. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”</p><p> </p><p>Dream shrugs. “It wasn’t time yet.” The axe spins again, arcing over his head as he turns. “That’s not what I brought you down here to show you, though. This is.”</p><p> </p><p>Tommy steps closer, far too aware of how his feet drag against the floor. There’s a two-block-tall hole in the wall he failed to notice earlier, blending in so well with the blackstone that he wouldn’t have seen it if Dream hadn’t pointed it out to him. But as he moves away from the hall’s entrance, silver bars peek out from the hole, blocking him from reaching out and grabbing-</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Tubbo.” </em></p><p> </p><p>Tommy sprints to the hole and squishes himself as close to the bars as possible, drinking in the sight of his best friend. The President lies curled up in the corner, back pressed firmly against the wall. His clothes are rumpled, the suit jacket he always kept ironed and stiff nowhere to be found. Patches of sweat-soaked cloth release a musty, overpowering odor, matching the dampness of his tangled, greasy hair. Scorch marks litter his pants and shirt as varied and widespread as burns scatter across his skin.</p><p> </p><p>He’s not moving, and for a single, horrible moment, Tommy wonders if he’s dead.</p><p> </p><p>“Tubbo.” He reaches through the bars, though he hesitates. What happens if his skin is cold? “Tubbo, it’s Tommy. Wake up.”</p><p> </p><p>No answer. Tommy bites the bullet, grasps Tubbo’s hand, and yanks.</p><p> </p><p>A strangled yelp wrenches out of Tubbo’s throat. His eyes open, wide and wild, as he tugs out of Tommy’s grip, and he pushes his feet against the bars, pressing into the corner. </p><p> </p><p>“Tubbo!” The older boy stifles a whimper and tucks into the fetal position, ducking his face into his knees and clamping his hands over his ears. Tommy winces. </p><p> </p><p>“Tubbo,” he says, softer now. “It’s me. It’s Tommy.”</p><p> </p><p>Tubbo doesn’t respond. If anything, he curls up tighter, clenching his eyes shut and shaking his head. He heaves quick, shallow breaths, murmuring pleas for mercy under his breath. </p><p> </p><p>When the first sob wretches from his throat, Tommy’s thoughts run ablaze. A lit match drops in a dry forest, burning through fallen leaves and fresh kindling. Faint wisps of smoke rise above the treeline as he turns, Dream’s only warning as wind stirs up and stokes the flames.</p><p> </p><p>“What the fuck did you do to him,” he demands, hands curled into bloodless fists. “Tell me right this instant.”</p><p> </p><p>The axe has not stopped moving. Dream spins it rhythmically, never failing to lose the tempo. “I didn’t do anything,” he says. “He did it all to himself.”</p><p> </p><p>“That is such a fucking lie, let me tell you-”</p><p> </p><p>“...Tommy?”</p><p> </p><p>He cuts himself off, snapping his head right back towards the cage. Tubbo stares at him with wet, shining eyes, shock still and pale. He’s horrified.</p><p> </p><p>Tommy, however, pretends to notice none of that. “Tubbo. Holy shit<em>,</em> <em>Tubbo!</em> You’re okay!”</p><p> </p><p>“What are you doing here?” Tubbo says, hands dropping to his sides. “<em> How </em> are you here?”</p><p> </p><p>“Doesn’t matter. I’m getting you out and we’re going home,” Tommy declares. Rain comes and douses patches of flames, soothing the burnt trees and soaking into the soil. Everything is going to be okay. Everything is going to be fine.</p><p> </p><p>Tubbo drops a bomb on the forest in one moment.</p><p> </p><p>“I can’t leave, Tommy.”</p><p> </p><p>“What? Of course you can!” Tommy says, taken aback. “There’s a portal right over there. We can get out and run-”</p><p> </p><p>Tubbo shakes his head. “I can’t risk L’Manberg’s safety.”</p><p> </p><p>He stops short. “L’Manberg? Wh- what do you mean?” Yet even as he says it, the cogs click together in his head. “It was you, wasn’t it? You stopped them from destroying L’Manberg.”</p><p> </p><p>Tubbo’s grim smile is enough of an answer. “You saw the obsidian, Tommy,” he says. “If I hadn’t done anything, there would be nothing left. I couldn’t let it blow up on my watch again.”</p><p> </p><p>“Again?” Something breaks in Tommy’s voice. “Tubbo, it’s not your fault Wilbur pressed the button. You couldn’t have stopped him if you tried. I tried! And I failed!”</p><p> </p><p>“Not that,” Tubbo says, holding his head up with the wall. “It blew up when I exiled you.”</p><p> </p><p>For once, Tommy’s speechless. “Tubbo-”</p><p> </p><p>“Think about it,” the other boy continues. “If I hadn’t done that, Quackity and Fundy wouldn’t have made the Butcher Army, we wouldn’t have tried to execute Technoblade, Quackity wouldn’t have lost his second life, the Community House wouldn’t have blown up, and I never would’ve given up your disc!” Tubbo’s voice rises, growing hysterical. “It all ties back to that one thing. It all connects.”</p><p> </p><p>“Tubbo- Tubbo, listen to me,” Tommy pleads. He clasps Tubbo’s hand through the bars. “There wasn’t anything you could do. I know that. It hurt when it happened, but I let go of it a long time ago! I forgave you!” His eyes sting with the threat of unshed tears, but he blinks them away before they fall. “Look, we’ll think of something with Dream. We’ll make a new deal, and you can come back to me with L’Manberg, and it’ll all be okay-”</p><p> </p><p>“That sounds nice,” Dream says, startling both boys, who had almost forgotten he was there. “But there’s a problem with that, Tommy.” </p><p> </p><p>“Oh yeah?” Tommy draws himself up and puffs out his chest. “And what might that be?”</p><p> </p><p>The axe stops twirling. “You’re not going back to L’Manberg.”</p><p> </p><p>Like a balloon, he deflates. “You can’t do that. Tubbo and I- we’re leaving, and we’re going home.”</p><p> </p><p>“You can go to <em> a </em> home, sure,” Dream says. “But it won’t be L’Manberg.”</p><p> </p><p>Tubbo’s face goes sheet-white, tainted by a faint shade of puce. “No,” he whispers, voice cracking. “No, please. Not there. Not the prison.”</p><p> </p><p>“The prison?” Tommy clutches Tubbo’s hand tighter, shielding the other boy behind the bars. The fire inside catches a second wind. “You’ve kept him in the prison?”</p><p> </p><p>Dream shifts his grip on the axe, dropping into a more relaxed stance. “I’m not an asshole, Tommy.” Even behind the mask, Tommy could sense the eye roll. “Do you think anyone could live in that tiny space he’s in for more than a day?”</p><p> </p><p>“No, but I don’t fucking expect you to get that, bitch.”</p><p> </p><p>“I gave you free roam during your exile,” Dream snaps out. “There were exceptions and some rules you had to follow, but other than that, you could do whatever you wanted. Even up to the point where you ran away.</p><p> </p><p>“But Tubbo here” --he points the axe at Tubbo’s chest-- “Tubbo <em> gave </em> himself to me. He made a trade, L’Manberg’s protection for his life, and I’m keeping my end of the bargain.” He throws his arms up, the axe sweeping wide through the air. “And maybe, <em> maybe </em> if you hadn’t broken my trust, I would let him out in Logstead or somewhere new, but I can’t. I can’t trust that he won’t run away like you did.”</p><p> </p><p>“And if we try to run now?” Tommy says, his mouth dry. “What happens then?”</p><p> </p><p>Dream tilts the axe, watching the light glint off the blade. “Then I’ll kill Tubbo.”</p><p> </p><p>Both boys make a noise in the back of their throats: for Tommy, a startled yelp; for Tubbo, a scared whimper. </p><p> </p><p>“No way, you’re not killing him.” Tommy says, his thoughts racing. He couldn’t, right? “I won’t let you.”</p><p> </p><p>“There’s nowhere for him to go.” Dream shrugs, bouncing the axe off his shoulder. “If you run, you leave him vulnerable.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, then get him out of there. You’re gonna have to move him anyway.”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t think you get how this works, Tommy,” Dream says. “Tubbo was a lure, a <em> pawn </em> . Something to get you here: just like Henry, just like your discs.” The axe swings again, revolving at a slow, hypnotic pace. “I planned on bringing you down here for <em> weeks </em>, even before I made Tubbo exile you.” </p><p> </p><p>Tommy slinks back, pressing his back against the bars. Tubbo’s breath hitches. </p><p> </p><p>Dream never pauses. “Sure, the prison wasn’t meant for either of you, but how can I pass up that opportunity when it shows itself?”</p><p> </p><p>Acid burns in Tommy’s throat. Dream has everything, doesn’t he? The discs, Henry, L’Manberg, even Tubbo, for fuck’s sake. What’s next? </p><p> </p><p>“That wasn’t part of our deal,” Tommy says. “You said that if I left all my things behind, you would show me where Tubbo is.”</p><p> </p><p>“And I did. We never agreed on what would happen after.”</p><p> </p><p>The fire flares, though it’s muted: a burn pile surrounded by threats prepared to muffle out the flame. </p><p> </p><p>““You’re a wrongun, you know that?” Tommy says, pointing at Dream’s chest. “A real dickhead. And I’m going to stop you.”</p><p> </p><p>“What makes you think you have any chance?” Dream laughs. “You said it yourself, you have nothing. You’re defenseless!”</p><p> </p><p>“He’s right,” Tubbo says, his voice small and devoid of hope. “We don’t have a choice.”</p><p> </p><p>“Listen to Tubbo, Tommy. Even he’s telling you to give in.” Dream closes the gap between them and sheathes the axe on his back, then grabs Tommy’s shoulders in a bruising grip (ignoring the way Tommy’s breath quickens and he flinches upon contact). “Move out of the way, agree to cooperate, and maybe -- just maybe -- I’ll let the two of you stay in neighboring cells.”</p><p> </p><p>Tommy ducks his head down and studies the floor as he stalls, mulling over his options. There’s no other choice. All his other cards are scattered across the table. He has no more moves, no more tricks, nothing left that can weasel their way out of this mess.</p><p> </p><p>Tommy eyes the swirling Nether portal and smiles. Maybe he has one left.</p><p> </p><p>“You know, Dream,” he says, “when you brought me here, you fucked up and forgot something.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, really?” Dream said, drawing out a drawl. “And what would that be?”</p><p> </p><p>“Me and Tubbo? We’re friends.” He levels his gaze at Dream, staring directly into the eyes of his mask, and his smile grows into a big, triumphant grin. “And friends never leave each other behind.”</p><p> </p><p>As if on cue, the portal spits a group out one-by-one in a mass of purple particles. Quackity, Fundy, Ranboo, Sapnap, Sam, and Techno pile out of the portal, all decked out in glowing armor and weapons, and surround the entrance to the trophy hall, blocking Dream off from the exit.</p><p> </p><p>And leading the charge is Wilbur, fueled by the same fire in Tommy’s eyes, gripping a compass in his barely translucent hand.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“I’m only going to say this once, Dream,” he says, all traces of Ghostbur’s innocent air wiped clean from his voice. “Get the fuck away from My Tommy.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hope y'all enjoyed! If you liked it, please leave a kudos and subscribe to receive a notif when the next chapter comes out! </p><p>I also have another Dream SMP fic in the works which will be a lot longer, so be on the look for that when it's out.</p><p>Also, follow me on tumblr @egopocalypse! I post fics and Dream SMP analysis essays there.</p><p>Thank you so much for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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